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Love is Sacrifice

At 16 years old I had a jumble of pearly whites all about my mouth like a picture of a mosh-pit. My mother was in the process of having all of that fixed. I had teeth removed, a palate splitter, and not to mention the irritating braces, but what I really dreaded was the surgery. My junior year in high school I was out of commission for a few weeks with a surgically broken and reset jaw. It was an absolutely miserable experience. I had no choice in the matter as I was only 16, and my mother made all the decisions. I lost a lot of weight and felt like crap when I took pain medication, and felt terrible pain if I didn’t take them. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. It was all around no fun. So now fast forward to present-day and I can appreciate what my mother did for me.

You don’t get a picture of my pathetic face after that surgery, haha.

I’m sitting on my second story apartment balcony enjoying 70+ degree temperatures in early December, here in Texas. My big old Great Dane Dozer is resting beside me with a giant inflatable collar around his neck. He just went through surgery yesterday to be neutered, and by all means is not thrilled. While I sit here comfortable, he has a sore between his legs where, something human men value, no longer is. I feel absolutely terrible. I had him neutered for many reasons, but above all, I never want to be responsible for another set of pups entering this world to no home and the huge overpopulation crisis. This doesn’t even negate the fact that I caused him pain, and It tears me up. I spoke to my mother, who’s just over a thousand miles away, and she mentioned my jaw surgery. Within that moment, I actually related on a very emotional level with my mother. This is something that is a tad strange in our overly sarcastic family. We cause our loved ones pain to help them, and in that process we feel as much emotional hurt. We sacrifice comfort for the betterment of the ones we love.

While settling into this so blatantly obvious fact, I felt an overwhelming feeling of being in step with what it means to be human. We do things every day that are uncomfortable for ourselves or others with all the best intentions. We give our best friend terrible news about his girlfriend of four years cheating on him. We ground our children for bad behavior. We force extremely intoxicated friends to stop drinking and take them home. Why? We do it because we love them. We don’t do this because either of us are going to enjoy the experience. We do it because we love each other and we do what is most responsible and best in that moment. We hold no regrets, because we did what we thought was best, in that moment. Even if that friend never speaks to you again, you can rest easy knowing they didn’t drive their drunk ass into the tree just up the road.